Midnight Eyes by Brophy, Sarah (well read books .TXT) 📕

Imogen had to admit that she was proving interesting, if nothing else. Why she had wanted to come along when she so clearly hated traveling, disliked horses and detested work of any kind, however, defeated Imogen.

Although, there was an entertainment to be found in the way Matthew exploded every time he had to deal with the disinterested servant.

“It’s good to see you smiling again, Imogen,” Gareth said warmly as he drew his horse beside hers, startling her out of her thoughts.

Her smile dimpled a little deeper. “I was just trying to recall some of the new words that Matthew—uh, taught me last night when he was trying to get Mildryd to cook dinner. I think they were ever so impressive, don’t you?”

“They were.” Gareth grinned. “Some even I hadn’t heard before, though I think it might be better if you tried to forget them.”

“Better, but nowhere near as much fun. Besides, I have to remember them if I’m going to ask Robert what they all actually mean.”

Gareth let out a soft chuckle. “And I would just love to hear how he manages to explain them to you.” He grimaced a little. “In fact I imagine he will yell more than a few of them at me when he realizes just how much we have managed to broaden your…er, horizons, while he’s been gone.”

Imogen laughed as she tried to imagine the sophisticated Gareth trying to explain away her suddenly advanced education in curse words.

Gareth watched the joy on her face, transfixed as always by the radiance of her laugh. A companionable silence grew between them as their horses walked on slowly, Gareth holding the leading rein tightly. It was pleasant, but it couldn’t entirely distract Imogen from the seriousness of their journey. “How much longer till we are there, do you think?” she asked softly.

Gareth squinted at the sun for a moment, his mind swiftly making calculations. “I’d say that we have another good five days of travel ahead before we reach the fortress, presuming then that the king is still in residence there. If not…”

Imogen sighed in frustration. “That long!” She shook her head. “It’s my fault. You two would be traveling a lot faster if you weren’t being slowed down by a blind woman.” Her hands clenched so tightly onto the saddle pommel her knuckles whitened.

Gareth shrugged his shoulders philosophically, reaching out a reassuring hand to cover hers. “If it wasn’t for the determination of our blind woman, we wouldn’t be traveling with any hope of saving Robert. Instead, we would be fleeing to the nearest port. Without the evidence you carry, I wouldn’t give much hope for Robert’s chance of surviving.” His voice stopped suddenly and he quickly looked away.

Gareth didn’t say aloud that he feared they might be traveling only to retrieve Robert’s body parts from the king’s castle walls. He didn’t have to. Imogen heard it all the same.

The silence that now descended was heavy with their grim thoughts. After a reassuring squeeze, Gareth lifted his hands from hers and pulled out in front once more, and Imogen purposely loosened her grip on the pommel, trying to think of nothing.

She refused to let herself dwell on the possibility that Roger had already won, but no matter how hard she tried, fear and worry stalked her.

That evening Gareth set up camp in a clearing off the road near a small stream. Imogen gratefully slid off her horse, having been more than a little afraid she finally might have melded permanently with the beast.

She wanted to groan as she ran her tired hands over the nagging pain in her back, trying to shift all the kinks out of her tired muscles. She turned her head as she heard Matthew walking toward her, grumbling hotly under his breath.

“Have you been arguing with Mildryd again?” she asked sweetly, smiling up at the irritable old man.

Matthew let out a long snort of disgust. “One doesn’t argue with a cow, one yells at it in the vain hope that something of sense will penetrate its thick skull.”

“And did it?”

“What do you think, my lady? I’ve been trying to get through to her since we started this ill-fated journey but nothing gets in. All I am doing is wasting perfectly good air and I still end up being your nursemaid.”

“Well, I think you make an entirely wonderful nursemaid. You seem to anticipate my needs even before I realize what they are. Why, I bet that even now you’re making plans to walk me over to that stream I can hear bubbling so brightly, so that I can freshen up.” She dimpled up at him and lifted out her hand, which he threaded through his arm with a shake of his head.

“You see far too much sometimes,” he said with a rueful laugh, which broke off suddenly. He cleared his throat in discomfort. “Well, you know what I mean,” he said gruffly.

“Of course I do. You are accusing me of being too clever for you,” she said serenely, “and I have absolutely no objection to being thought of as such.

In fact I think it is very insightful of you to have realized it at last.”

He was laughing once more as he slowly walked her over to the stream. He helped her kneel down on the grassy bank and carefully placed one of her hands in the cold rushing water.

“Now, I’ll just be right over here. I’ll give you as much privacy as I can but…” he finished lamely and stood stiffly.

She nodded her head understandingly. “But not enough of it to get me killed, right?”

“Right.”

She listened to his departing footsteps to make sure he had left the immediate area before quickly and efficiently setting about washing her face, neck and hands. The stream was freezing; its banks swollen with the first of the snow melt. The intensity of the cold caused Imogen to catch her breath and she couldn’t help shivering as she splashed the icy droplets over her skin. She had got very